6

earth, and sings as she ascends higher into the air; and having ended her heavenly employment, grows then mute and sad, to think she must descend to the dull earth, which she would not touch but for necessity.

How do the blackbird and throssel (song-thrush), with their melodious voices, bid welcome to the cheerful spring, and in their fixed mouths warble forth such ditties as no art or instrument can reach to!

Nay, the smaller birds also do the like in their particular seasons, as, namely, the laverock (skylark), the titlark, the little linnet, and the honest robin, that loves mankind both alive and dead.

But the nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to He that at midnight, think miracles are not ceased. when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, "Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth !'”

and of the primitive piety.' Walton retired from business in 1643, and lived forty years afterwards in uninterrupted leisure. His first work was a Life of Dr Donne, prefixed to a collection of the doctor's sermons, published in 1640. Sir Henry Wotton was to have written Donne's life, Walton merely collecting the materials; but Sir Henry dying before he had begun to execute the task, Izaak reviewed his forsaken collections, and resolved that the world should see the best plain picture of the author's life that his artless pencil, guided by the hand of truth, could present.' The memoir is circumstantial and deeply interesting. He next wrote a Life of Sir Henry Wotton, and edited his literary remains. His principal production, The Complete Angler, or Contemplative Man's Recreation, appeared in 1653, and four other editions of it were called for during his life, namely, in 1655, 1664, 1668, and 1676. Walton also wrote a Life of Richard Hooker (1662), a Life of George Herbert (1670), and a Life of Bishop Sanderson (1678). They are all exquisitely simple, touching, and impressive. Though no man seems to have possessed his soul more patiently during the troublous times in which he lived, the venerable The lover of hunting next takes his turn, and Izaak was tempted, in 1680, to write and publish comments, though with less force (for here Walton anonymously two letters on the Distempers of the himself must have been at fault), on the perfection of Times, written from a quiet and conformable citizen smell possessed by the hound, and the joyous music of London to two busie and factious shopkeepers in made by a pack of dogs in full chase. Piscator then Coventry.' In 1683, when in his ninetieth year, he unfolds his long-treasured and highly-prized lore on published the Thealma and Clearchus of Chalkhill, the virtues of water-sea, river, and brook; and on which we have previously noticed; and he died at the antiquity and excellence of fishing and angling. Winchester on the 15th December of the same year, The latter, he says, is somewhat like poetry: men while residing with his son-in-law, Dr Hawkins, must be born so.' He quotes Scripture, and numbers prebendary of Winchester cathedral. the prophets who allude to fishing. He also rememThe Complete Angler' of Walton is a production bers with pride that four of the twelve apostles were unique in our literature. In writing it, he says he fishermen, and that our Saviour never reproved them made a recreation of a recreation,' and, by mingling for their employment or calling, as he did the Scribes innocent mirth and pleasant scenes with the graver and money-changers; for 'He found that the hearts parts of his discourse, he designed it as a picture of of such men, by nature, were fitted for contemplation his own disposition. The work is, indeed, essentially and quietness; men of mild, and sweet, and peaceautobiographical in spirit and execution. A hunter able spirits, as, indeed, most anglers are.' The idea of and falconer are introduced as parties in the dia- angling seems to have unconsciously mixed itself logues, but they serve only as foils to the venerable with all Izaak Walton's speculations on goodness, and complacent Piscator, in whom the interest of loyalty, and veneration. Even worldly enjoyment the piece wholly centres. The opening scene lets us he appears to have grudged to any less gifted at once into the genial character of the work and its mortals. A finely-dressed dish of fish, or a rich drink, hero. The three interlocutors meet accidentally on he pronounces too good for any but anglers or very Tottenham hill, near London, on a fine fresh May honest men: and his parting benediction is upon morning. They are open and cheerful as the day.all that are lovers of virtue, and dare trust in ProPiscator is going towards Ware, Venator to meet a vidence, and be quiet, and go a-angling.' The last pack of other dogs upon Amwell hill, and Auceps to condition would, in his ordinary mood, when not Theobald's, to see a hawk that a friend there mews peculiarly solemn or earnest, be quite equivalent to or moults for him. Piscator willingly joins with the any of the others. The rhetoric and knowledge of lover of hounds in helping to destroy otters, for he Piscator at length fairly overcome Venator, and 'hates them perfectly, because they love fish so well, make him a convert to the superiority of angling, as and destroy so much.' The sportsmen proceed on- compared with his more savage pursuit of hunting. wards together, and they agree each to 'commend his He agrees to accompany Piscator in his sport, adopts recreation' or favourite pursuit. Piscator alludes to him as his master and guide, and in time becomes the virtue and contentedness of anglers, but gives initiated into the practice and mysterics of the gentle the precedence to his companions in discoursing on eraft. The angling excursions of the pair give occatheir different crafts. The lover of hawking is elo- sion to the practical lessons and descriptions in the quent on the virtues of air, the element that he book, and elicit what is its greatest charm, the trades in, and on its various winged inhabitants. He minute and vivid painting of rural objects, the disdescribes the falcon making her highway over the play of character, both in action and conversation, steepest mountains and deepest rivers, and, in her the flow of generous sentiment and feeling, and the glorious career, looking with contempt upon those associated recollections of picturesque poetry, nahigh steeples and magnificent palaces which we adore tural piety, and examples and precepts of morality. and wonder at.' The singing birds, those little Add to this the easy elegance of Walton's style, nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their sprinkled, but not obscured, by the antiquated idiom curious ditties with which nature hath furnished and expression of his times, and clear and sparkling them to the shame of art,' are descanted upon with as one of his own favourite summer streams. Not pure poetical feeling and expression. an hour of the fishing day is wasted or unimproved. The master and scholar rise with the early dawn, and after four hours' fishing, breakfast at nine under a sycamore that shades them from the sun's heat.

'At first the lark, when she means to rejoice, to cheer herself and those that hear her, she then quits the

Old Piscator reads his admiring scholar a lesson on fly-fishing, and they sit and discourse while a 'smoking shower' passes off, freshening all the meadow and the flowers.

And now, scholar, I think it will be time to repair to our angle rods, which we left in the water to fish for themselves; and you shall choose which shall be yours; and it is an even lay, one of them catches. And, let me tell you, this kind of fishing with a dead rod, and laying night hooks, are like putting money to use; for they both work for their owners when they do nothing but sleep, or eat, or rejoice, as you know we have done this last hour, and sat as quietly and as free from cares under this sycamore, as Virgil's Tityrus and his Meliboeus did under their broad beech tree. No life, my honest scholar, no life so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well-governed angler; for when the lawyer is swallowed up with business, and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams which we now see glide so quietly by us. Indeed, my good scholar, we may say of angling as Dr Boteler said of strawberries, "Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did ;" and so (if I might be judge) "God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling."

when sport and instruction are over, they repair to the little alehouse, well-known to Piscator, where they find a cleanly room, lavender in the windows, and twenty ballads stuck about the wall.' The hostess is cleanly, handsome, and civil, and knows how to dress the fish after Piscator's own fashion (he is learned in cookery); and having made a supper of their gallant trout, they drink their ale, tell tales, sing ballads, or join with a brother angler who drops in, in a merry catch, till sleep overpowers them, and they retire to the hostess' two beds, the linen of which looks white and smells of lavender.' All this humble but happy painting is fresh as nature herself, and instinct with moral feeling and beauty. The only speck upon the brightness of old Piscator's benevolence is one arising from his entire devotion to his art. He will allow no creature to take fish but the angler, and concludes that any honest man may make a just quarrel with swan, geese, ducks, the sea-gull, heron, &c. His directions for making livebait have subjected him to the charge of cruelty,* and are certainly curious enough. Painted flies seem not to have occurred to him; and the use of snails, worms, &c., induced no compunctious visitings. For taking pike he recommends a perch, as the longest lived fish on a hook, and the poor frog is treated with elaborate and extravagant inhumanity :

'And thus use your frog, that he may continue long I'll tell you, scholar, when I sat last on this prim-alive: put your hook into his mouth, which you may rose bank, and looked down these meadows, I thought easily do from the middle of April till August; and of them as Charles the Emperor did of the city of then the frog's mouth grows up, and he continues so Florence," that they were too pleasant to be looked for at least six months without eating, but is sustained on but only on holidays." As I then sat on this very none but He whose name is Wonderful knows how. grass, I turned my present thoughts into verse: 'twas I say, put your hook, I mean the arming wire, through a wish, which I'll repeat to you :his mouth and out at his gills; and with a fine needle and silk sew the upper part of his leg, with only one stitch, to the arming wire of your hook; or tie the frog's leg above the upper joint to the armed wire; and, in so doing, use him as though you loved him, that is, harm him as little as you may possible, that he may live the longer!

The Angler's Wish.

I in these flowery meads would be;
These crystal streams should solace me;
To whose harmonious bubbling noise,
I with my angle would rejoice;

Sit here, and see the turtle-dove
Court his chaste mate to acts of love;
Or on that bank feel the west wind
Breathe health and plenty: please my mind,
To see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers,
And then wash'd off by April showers ;
Here, hear my Kenna sing a song ;
There, see a blackbird feed her young,
Or a laverock build her n'est:
Here, give my weary spirits rest,
And raise my low-pitched thoughts above
Earth, or what poor mortals love:

Thus, free from law-suits and the noise
Of princes' courts, I would rejoice.
Or, with my Bryan1 and a book,
Loiter long days near Shawford brook ;
There sit by him, and eat my meat,
There see the sun both rise and set,
There bid good morning to next day,
There meditate my time away,

And angle on; and beg to have
A quiet passage to a welcome grave.'
The master and scholar, at another time, sit under
a honeysuckle hedge while a shower falls, and en-
counter a handsome milkmaid and her mother, who
sing to them that smooth song which was made by
Kit Marlow'-

Come live with me, and be my love;

and the answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days.' At night, 1 Supposed to be the name of his dog.

Modern taste and feeling would recoil from such experiments as these, and we may oppose to the aberrations of the venerable Walton the philosophical maxim of Wordsworth

Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.

If this observation falls into the opposite extreme
(seeing that it would, if rigidly interpreted, suppress
field sports and many of the luxuries and amuse-
ments of life), we must claim, that it is an excess
more amiable than that into which Piscator was led
by his attachment to angling. Towards the conclu-
sion of his work, Walton indulges in the following
strain of moral reflection and admonition, and is as
philosophically just and wise in his counsels, as his
language and imagery are chaste, beautiful, and ani-
mated.

27

our happiness. And that our present happiness may appear to be the greater, and we the more thankful for it, I will beg you to consider with me how many do, even at this very time, lie under the torment of the stone, the gout, and toothache; and this we are free from. And every misery that I miss is a new mercy; and therefore let us be thankful. There have been, since we met, others that have met disasters of broken limbs; some have been blasted, others thunder-strucken; and we have been freed from these and all those many other miseries that threaten human nature: let us therefore rejoice and be thankful. Nay, which is a far greater mercy, we are free from the insupportable burden of an accusing, tormenting conscience-a misery that none can bear; and therefore let us praise Him for his preventing grace, and say, Every misery that I miss is a new mercy. Nay, let me tell you, there be many that have forty times our estates, that would give the greatest part of it to be healthful and cheerful like us, who, with the expense of a little money, have eat, and drank, and laughed, and angled, and sung, and slept securely; and rose next day, and cast away care, and sung, and laughed, and angled again, which are blessings rich men cannot purchase with all their money. Let me tell you, scholar, I have a rich neighbour that is always so busy that he has no leisure to laugh; the whole business of his life is to get money, and more money, that he may still get more and more money; he is still drudging on, and says that Solomon says, "The hand of the diligent maketh rich;" and it is true indeed: but he considers not that it is not in the power of riches to make a man happy: for it was wisely said by a man of great observation, "That there be as many miseries beyond riches as on this side them." And yet God deliver us from pinching poverty, and grant that, having a competency, we may be content and thankful! Let us not repine, or so much as think the gifts of God unequally dealt, if we see another abound with riches, when, as God knows, the cares that are the keys that keep those riches hang often so heavily at the rich man's girdle, that they clog him with weary days and restless nights, even when others sleep quietly. We see but the outside of the rich man's happiness; few consider him to be like the silkworm, that, when she seems to play, is at the very same time spinning her own bowels, and consuming herself; and this many rich men do, loading themselves with corroding cares, to keep what they have, probably unconscionably got. Let us therefore be thankful for health and competence, and, above all, for a quiet conscience.

Let me tell you, scholar, that Diogenes walked on a day, with his friend, to see a country fair, where he saw ribbons, and looking-glasses, and nut-crackers, and fiddles, and hobby-horses, and many other gimcracks; and having observed them, and all the other finnimbruns that make a complete country fair, he said to his friend, "Lord, how many things are there in this world of which Diogenes hath no need!" And truly it is so, or might be so, with very many who vex and toil themselves to get what they have no need of. Can any man charge God that he hath not given him enough to make his life happy? No, doubtless; for nature is content with a little. And yet you shall hardly meet with a man that complains not of some want, though he, indeed, wants nothing but his will; it may be, nothing but his will of his poor neighbour, for not worshipping or not flattering him: and thus, when we might be happy and quiet, we create trouble to ourselves. I have heard of a man that was angry with himself because he was no taller; and of a woman that broke her looking-glass because it would not show her face to be as young and handsome as her next neighbour's was. And I knew another to whom God had given health and plenty, but a wife that

nature had made peevish, and her husband's riches
had made purse-proud; and must, because she was
rich, and for no other virtue, sit in the highest pew in
the church; which being denied her, she engaged her
husband into a contention for it, and at last into a
law-suit with a dogged neighbour, who was as rich as
he, and had a wife as peevish and purse-proud as the
other; and this law-suit begot higher oppositions and
actionable words, and more vexations and law-suits;
for you must remember that both were rich, and must
therefore have their wills. Well, this wilful purse-
proud law-suit lasted during the life of the first hus-
band, after which his wife vexed and chid, and chid
and vexed, till she also chid and vexed herself into
her grave; and so the wealth of these poor rich people
was cursed into a punishment, because they wanted
meek and thankful hearts, for those only can make
us happy. I knew a man that had health and riches,
and several houses, all beautiful and ready-furnished,
and would often trouble himself and family to be re-
moving from one house to another; and being asked
by a friend why he removed so often from one house
to another, replied, "It was to find content in some one
of them." But his friend knowing his temper, told
him, "If he would find content in any of his houses,
he must leave himself behind him; for content will
never dwell but in a meek and quiet soul." And this
may appear, if we read and consider what our Savi-
our says in St Matthew's gospel, for he there says,
"Blessed be the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
Blessed be the poor in spirit, for theirs is the king-
dom of heaven. And blessed be the meek, for they
shall possess the earth." Not that the meek shall |
not also obtain mercy, and see God, and be com-
forted, and at last come to the kingdom of heaven
but, in the meantime, he, and he only, possesses the
earth, as he goes toward that kingdom of heaven, by
being humble and cheerful, and content with what
his good God has allotted him. He has no turbulent,
repining, vexatious thoughts that he deserves better;
nor is vexed when he sees others possessed of more
honour or more riches than his wise God has allotted
for his share; but he possesses what he has with a
meek and contented quietness, such a quietness as
makes his very dreams pleasing, both to God and
himself.

My honest scholar, all this is told to incline you to thankfulness; and, to incline you the more, let me tell you, that though the prophet David was guilty of murder and adultery, and many other of the most Ideadly sins, yet he was said to be a man after God's own heart, because he abounded more with thankfulness than any other that is mentioned in holy Scripture, as may appear in his book of Psalms, where there is such a commixture of his confessing of his sins and unworthiness, and such thankfulness for God's pardon and mercies, as did make him to be accounted, even by God himself, to be a man after his own heart: and let us, in that, labour to be as like him as we can; let not the blessings we receive daily from God make us not to value, or not praise Him, because they be common; let not us forget to praise Him for the innocent mirth and pleasure we have met with since we met together. What would a blind man give to see the pleasant rivers, and meadows, and flowers, and fountains, that we have met with since we met together? I have been told, that if a man that was born blind could obtain to have his sight for but only one hour during his whole life, and should, at the first opening of his eyes, fix his sight upon the sun when it was in his full glory, either at the rising or setting of it, he would be so transported and amazed, and so admire the glory of it, that he would not willingly turn his eyes from that first ravishing object to behold all the other various beau

distinguished himself by several scientific works written in a popular style. His Sylva, or a Discourse of Forest Trees, and the Propagation of Timber in his Majesty's Dominions, published in 1664, was written in consequence of an application to the Royal Society by the commissioners of the navy, who dreaded a scarcity of timber in the country. This work, aided by the king's example, stimulated the landholders to To the fifth edition of the 'Complete Angler' was plant an immense number of oak trees, which, a added a second part by CHARLES COTTON, the poet, century after, proved of the greatest service to the and translator of Montaigne. It consisted of in- nation in the construction of ships of war. Terra, structions how to angle for a trout or grayling in a a Discourse of the Earth, relating to the Culture and clear stream. Though the work was written in the Improvement of it, for Vegetation and the Propagation short space of ten days, Cotton, who had long been of Plants, appeared in 1675; and a treatise on medals familiar with fly-fishing, and was an adopted son is another production of the venerable author. There of Izaak Walton, produced a treatise valuable for has been printed, also, a volume of his Miscellanies, its technical knowledge and accuracy. Walton's including a treatise in praise of Public Employment form of conveying instruction in dialogues is also and an Active Life,' which he wrote in reply to Sir preserved, the author being Piscator Junior, and his George Mackenzie's Essay on Solitude.' Evelyn companion a traveller (Viator), who had paid a was one of the first in this country to treat gardenvisit to the romantic scenery of Derbyshire, nearing and planting scientifically; and his grounds at which the residence of Cotton was situated. This Sayes-Court, near Deptford, where he resided during traveller turns out to be the Venator of the first a great part of his life, attracted much admiration, part, wholly addicted to the chase' till Mr Izaak on account of the number of foreign plants which Walton taught him as good, a more quiet, innocent, he reared in them, and the fine order in which they and less dangerous diversion. The friends embrace; were kept. The czar, Peter, was tenant of that Piscator conducts his new associate to his beloved mansion after the removal of Evelyn to another river Dove,' extends to him the hospitalities of his estate; and the old man was mortified by the gross mansion, and next morning shows him his fishing manner in which his house and garden were abused house, inscribed Piscatoribus Sacrum,' with the by the Russian potentate and his retinue. It was prettily contrived' cipher including the two first one of Peter's amusements to demolish a most letters of father Walton's name and those of his son glorious and impenetrable holly hedge,' by riding Cotton. A delicate clear river flowed about the through it on a wheelbarrow. house, which stood on a little peninsula, with a bowling-green close by, and fair meadows and mountains in the neighbourhood. The ruins of this building still remain, adding interest to the romantic and beautiful scenery on the banks of the river Dove, and recalling the memory of the venerable

Evelyn, throughout the greater part of his life, kept a diary, in which he entered every remarkable event in which he was in any way concerned. This was published in 1818 (two volumes quarto), and proved to be a most valuable addition to our store of historical materials respecting the latter half of